


Sciencelings

by je_suis



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Awkward Flirting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Irondad, M/M, Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Science Sons, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Fail, Slow Build, Teenage Dorks, The Wisdom of a Five Year Old is Priceless, parkner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21838258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/je_suis/pseuds/je_suis
Summary: Harley officially has an open invitation to the Avengers Compound to Science with Tony. That's when he meets Peter Parker. What starts off as a competition to impress Tony–though Harley would never admit that–turns into a lot of shenanigans and frappuccinos. Harley really did not expect to like the SpiderDweeb so much, and now he's not sure what's happening.Don't worry, Morgan makes everything better, and Tony knew it would be a bad day for his blood pressure when his Science Sons were involved.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 264
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019





	Sciencelings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is the first time I've participated in a 'Bang. It was such a great experience! 
> 
> I was honored to work with the amazingly talented [mfrov95](https://mfrov95.tumblr.com/)! I'm so glad that I got to write for this amazing piece, and it was so much fun!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

When he had applied to the Summer Internship Program at the Avengers Compound, Harley hadn't even thought to call Tony. Stubborn pride and a need to prove himself, he intended to get in on his own merit.

So, over the course of his winter holiday, he wrote his essay for the application. The subtle art of hyping himself up in every other paragraph, more than a few embellishments to his passion for science, and five thousand words later, it was done. Along with the transcripts and recommendation letters he gathered, the application was complete.

With a click, tap, and confirmation, everything was settled. Up to the cosmos, fate, whatever. By April, Harley would find out if he got in and the rest would be history. All he wanted was to spend a summer with Tony to start off senior year on a high note.

But not even half an hour later, his phone was blowing up. The chorus of Lynyrd Skynyrd's, "Free Bird," chiming on the kitchen counter, and his stomach dropped.

Instead of an email giving him news on his application status, Harley was on the receiving end of a full blown lecture from Tony. The man hadn't even bothered saying hello.

Tony said something about robots and physics. Another thing about the great advancements in technology, and the hyper fast age of communication. Which was somehow connected to social networking, and finished with a " _What's the point of knowing me, if you're going sleuth it with everyone else?_ "

Harley was surprised someone could talk so long without breathing.

Which was hilarious. Amongst all the blabber, and watching as Morgan climbed into her dad's lap to say hi–because _she_ had manners–Harley sat, knowing well enough that there was a reason to the chaos. A lot of flailing arms were involved, and more than a handful of giggles. Somewhere in the rant, Tony practically blew a gasket yelling about taking advantage of opportunities, and another thing about a spider.

"But," Tony panted, out of breath, "What I'm really saying, kid, is that I'll see you in June."

Half of the screen was Morgan's nostril as she showed Harley a booger, but behind it was her father giving him a warm smile. Even with the scars on half his face, there was a gleam in Tony's eyes that made Harley unsure of what to say or do. So, he huffed and mumbled a thanks before hanging up.

Free of an audience, Harley smothered his face in his hands, his cheeks heating and probably bright red. Though the feeling of making Tony proud had made the paperwork worth it, blushing was not a part of the reputation he had to uphold.

♤◇♡♧

In the domestic gate of JFK airport, Harley looked around the bumbling travelers with only one thought in mind:

"This was a mistake."

His suitcase had lost a wheel somewhere between Tennessee and New York, meaning he was stuck carrying two months worth of clothes and other things in ninety degree weather. Coupled with the humidity, it felt like being licked by a giant pug. Icing to his melting cake was the fact that he couldn't find his ride in the hundreds of cars and taxis in all six lanes of traffic at the terminal.

As another person shoved past him, Harley wondered what he had done to deserve this suffering. Surely missing five years of reality was good enough penance for whatever he'd done in this life, or the next.

"Oh hey, you're Harley, right?"

Whipping around to the dude that just pushed him, he looked down at the face that belonged to the overly polite voice. Harley narrowed his eyes before raising an eyebrow.

"Who's asking?"

"Uhm, I'm Peter. Parker. Peter Parker," The kid laughed, rocking back on his heels, "And, Mr. Stark said you were landing in Queens. He thought we could hitch a ride upstate with Happy."

Pursing his lips, Harley set down his bag. "Are you in the internship program, too?"

Peter laughed, looking everywhere but him, "No, no. I'm in a different one? I work with Mr. Stark throughout the year, sort of an apprentice thing?"

Harley smiled, hoping the smirk distracted from his clenched jaw. It'd been years since Tony had seen him in person, he shouldn't feel special. The constricting in his chest tightened until he hiked his backpack higher on his shoulders, releasing the air trapped in his lungs. It seemed even worse to be two guys blocking the sidewalk, as people in suits grumbled their way past.

"Okay, lead the way, Parker."

Nodding with a lopsided grin, the boy pointed off in the distance, "Cool! The car's that way."

They both reached for the busted up suitcase, heads butting. Unfortunately for him, Harley was taller, meaning the bridge of his nose throbbed from bonking itself on the back of Peter's head.

"Jesus, is your skull made of iron?"

"I'm so sorry!"

In a flurry of motion, Peter waved his arms, flailing with luggage in one hand. Harley ignored the flare of pain, watching the kid fling at least forty pounds worth of clothing around like a rag. Something clicked, but without all the pieces, nothing connected. His brain stored the information away for later.

"It's fine," Harley huffed, snatching the luggage out of Peter's hand before he hit someone. "Let's just get to the compound in one piece.'

_Easier said than done, apparently._

Happy, a body guard with irony for a nickname, seemed to be one breath away from a perpetual sigh, or neverending exasperation. Watching the way Parker talked like his life depended on word count, Harley could understand.

He was a pro at dealing with talkative nerds prepped with all too many pop culture references though. The jabber morphed into background noise as Parker went on about the Avengers Compound. Packing his bags in the trunk of the SUV, Harley could admit that, at least the road trip would be eventful.

Just a two hour car ride with strangers. No big deal.

Unsteady, he shut the hatch, deflated by the less than stellar start to summer. Maybe the stinging in his chest was an overreaction, but the bitter taste of disappointment was strong on his tongue. By nearly smacking into a wall of tailored cloth and muscle when turning the taillight, he was knocked out of his inward spiral. Happy's very stoic face was two feet away from his own. Holding up a ribbon adorned with tiny Stark Industries logo, it held his internship ID, as well as what looked like a panic button.

"Special lanyard, kid," Happy's face was serious, but Harley could barely keep his own passive, "It goes missing? Then you lose your special access, capisce?"

A lazy salute was Harley's only response which looked to be enough for the man. They went to separate sides of the vehicle without another word between them. He climbed in, plopping into the nearest seat available.

His head throbbed from travelling, as if his thoughts were a puddle of goop sloshing in his skull. It seemed nearly perfect when the door shut, and the outside world was blocked behind tinted windows. In the perfect silence and air conditioning, all he wanted was sleep. So much sleep.

Like a cheese grater on his ear drums, the wrinkling of bags ruined the atmosphere instantly. Harley felt a pulse in his temples as he subdued the glare he directed at the source of the noise. Peter met his gaze with a wince, offering his now open bag of chips.

"Dorito?"

Unable to deny a salty snack, Harley reached in for a handful, humming his thanks. Munching away seemed better than mustering the energy for a conversation, and Peter held up on his own anyway. Pulling out of the labyrinthine airport had Parker talking up a storm. Nacho dust coated his fingertips, and Harley focused more on that than the fun facts about the New York Burroughs.

"So, what do you do with Tony?" Harley blurts, and the urge to kick himself has his foot twitching. "With the whole apprentice thing."

The New York native stopped mid sentence, mouth wide open and caught like a deer in headlights. Harley watched as brown eyes darted between the Doritos and meeting Harley's stare.

"Mostly suit upgrades? Other stuff, too, _personal_ stuff. He's teaching me a lot," Peter finished with his gaze on the chip in hand.

"You work on the Iron Man suits?"

"No! No, that's not my thing, like, at all. Just the other Avengers' suits."

He blew air through his nose, settling further into the leather seats, "Must be nice."

"It's a lot of work with long hours, but it's worth it at the end of the day."

A natural pause in their conversation allowed the noises of frantic streets to seep in. Peter barely seems fazed by the honking horns, or even the jilted stream of traffic, his stare fixed on nothing in particular. Without the constant motion or stream of words, Harley could really study Peter's features.

Tufts of brown hair were out of place, frazzled and pointing in so many directions. The hair seemed too fine and soft to be holding its own against gravity. He wondered what could possibly be going through the other's mind. By the way Peter's lips were set in a firm line, jaw clenching and relaxing in turn, Harley guessed it was none of his business.

He laughed to himself, reaching over to poke Peter in the cheek, "If you keep frowning like that, your face is going to get stuck."

Enjoying the open mouth gape he received, Harley pulled a cap from his bag to cover his eyes. The sputtering turned from surprise to confusion, and Harley could hear the puzzled munching of chips as he settled in for a nap.

He hadn't really slept, but it was easy to lay back and listen for the rest of the car ride. Between grumbling from Happy in the driver's seat and Peter's endless barrage of questions, two hours passed like it was nothing.

Being shaken awake was unpleasant, though, no matter the state of consciousness. Peter was pushing at his arm the moment the SUV came to a stop.

"We're here!"

Harley shot straight up from his slouch, looking out the window so fast, he had nearly given himself whiplash. Just as he'd been told, the Compound stood like a monolith in a field of green. His feet took him outside without thought.

Finally, he made it.

In the distance, a group of students were huddled, banding together like penguins. Easy enough, he knew where he was supposed to go. But as a herd of trainees passed by, Harley found himself stuck in place. Happy unceremoniously dropping his bag at his feet fixed that made him jump. Peter was grinning behind the security guard, smile brighter than the sun above them.

"Remember, Harley," Happy urged, "Don't lose the lanyard, ID at all times."

"Aye, aye, captain."

With an unimpressed, dead look, the man took off in the car, leaving the two of them in silence. He felt like an idiot standing there, twiddling his thumbs:

"I'm headed that way," Harley sighed, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

"Cool, nice meeting you."

Peter offered his hand, and Harley gave it a firm shake. "Yeah man, you too."

"See you around."

"Sure," was all he could muster. Unwilling to admit, even to himself, his heart clenched watching Peter fade from sight.

♤◇♡♧

There was an orientation, because of course some fancy internship would have an awkward introduction ceremony. Every other student had some brand name emblazoned on their shirt, or some perfectly pressed blazer. Tugging the wrinkles out of his black jeans was a waste of effort, only serving to make the creases pop out more, but he pulled at the fabric anyway.

When the share circle landed on him, his ears heated. Even to himself, his public school background and lack of a household name made it obvious that he didn't exactly belong.

Which felt all too important in a room full of trust fund babies.

The call for a tour of the compound felt like a blessing. Even with all the rules and curfews, stepping into the state of the art lab was mesmerizing. Harley had felt overwhelmed just from seeing the bathrooms. But the workshop was like coming home. Two months of tinkering and experimenting, Harley could have sworn he had stepped onto cloud nine. Regardless of the daunting end of the internship project that the instructor was explaining, nothing could have pulled him down from the high of having a wrench in his hand.

♤◇♡♧

The moment the supervisor called for lights out in the lab, Harley's feet took him away from the group. He figured if there were rules, he may as well set the precedent that he wouldn't follow them on day one.

Veering from path to hallway to corridor, Harley didn't even think. Plunging into the idea of getting lost, until soon enough, he was.

The compound was a museum filled to the brim with innovation and modern architecture. Big and grand, and very different from his garage in Tennessee. Everything about the place screamed sci-fi fantasy.

A bitter feeling, all too familiar and with a horrible aftertaste, sunk to the pit of his stomach. The rolled sleeves of his beaten flannel looked like an alarm against the sleek lines and precision. The very hallway he was sulking down was lined with windows like a contemporary artwork of glass, showing every inch of the fading sunset.

Sun slipping towards the purple horizon, lights illuminated the floor with perfect vibrance. Lines up and down the corridor gleamed like beacons. Following the subtle glow, he found himself in a place not included in the tour, hopelessly lost in a maze.

"Are you looking for the boss, Mr. Keener?" A disembodied voice chimed in the emptiness.

Harley tripped, hand slapped against his pecs, "Holy Hawking, warn a guy."

"My apologies for frightening you," the voice continued. "I'm FRIDAY, equipped in your access button."

"Neat."

"If you press the blue key on your pass, the path to the Boss's workshop will show up."

Thumbing at the key, Harley pushed until it clicked. Instantly, the lights on the ground changed, pointing in a different direction; his very own yellow brick road through the building. Feeling excitement well up inside him, warm and circulating, Harley took down the path. His steps increased in speed, until he was jogging past doors and offices.

Down a set of stairs and he was in front of _the entrance._ Frosted glass was all that was between him and everything he'd been waiting for. Harley could just make out the silhouette of Tony inside. The glint of the prosthetic arm and the telltale mop of hair. Without prompt, the doors slid open.

"Knew you'd find your way here eventually." Tony singsonged, spinning on his stool, "Took you long enough."

"So I'm the one who has to find you to get a hello?" Harley responded, unable to keep the grin off his face.

Barely a moment had to pass, before he was running between workbenches and discarded scrap metal to give Tony a hug. Months of stress for them both had made the greeting all the sweeter. Video calls were too few and far between to ever be enough.

"Hey, kid, long time no see," the billionaire mused, squeezing Harley closer with his prosthetic before pulling back.

"Really? This is the first time I've seen you since you went and saved the universe, and _that's_ all you have to say?"

"Well, what can I do, I was banking on the fact that you might want to work on something with me." Tony explained, gesturing to a cloth covered something in the corner of the lab.

"Maybe, depends on what it is."

"DUM-E, if you'd do the honors, " Tony clapped his hands. A robot wheeled over to pull at the sheet, to reveal a rusting car that had definitely seen better days. "An old Ford Mustang, snatched up right before they sent her off to the pound."

Harley licked at his lips, hands yearning for a set of tools, "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Tony's responding laugh was all he needed to know it was the right answer.

♤◇♡♧

Mechanically, Harley turned the socket wrench. They'd been working to the rhythm of a rock playlist, and he might have lost track of time, but Harley felt at peace with his arms covered in grease. Only one thing bothered him that not even restoring a hunk of junk could solve.

"You never mentioned having an apprentice." Weeding out the truth could prove hard, but Harley was prepared for an interrogation. "I thought Mr. Tacky-Man was your _protégé_?"

"Who?" He could barely hear the query from the spot Tony was working on underneath the car.

"Y'know, the Arachnikid or Spiderboy, whatever."

"Ah, the boy wonder," Tony mused. "I've got time on my hands now a days, not flying around and all. Superheroing and sciencelings all fit into the schedule. That answer your question?"

Focused entirely too much on his hands, Harley nodded. The bubble in his chest suffocated, what he wanted to say trapped by some weird sense of pride. He could almost call it disappointment, but maybe it was in himself.

"Seems like a lot," Harley said instead, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Kid, you're good, but you're talking to a master of repression here," Tony pushed out from under the Mustang, a knowing eyebrow raised to his hairline. "And if you really want to know, I don't pick favorites. There's plenty of space for you in the circle, even with Morgan, and Peter, _and_ Mr. Tackypants."

"I don't know what you're on about," Harley scoffed, but his shoulders felt lighter, almost airy.

"But we're connected! I know things-"

Watching Tony splayed on the creeper with a hand to his chest in mock pain made every stress seep out of his pores. Worry abated, he could put his focus on the engine. Pinning down the problem to a fine point, the beats of AC/DC bounced off the walls as he delved deeper into the hood. Work eased over them both, only the odd clang of metal interrupting their flow every now and then.

A final wipe to the forehead and he knew with certainty what the junker needed, "Tony, I think this car is dying for a new everything."

"Yeah, this one needs a bit more than just some TLC," Tony sighed. "Speaking of tender love and care, how are you doing with that gorgeous piece of yours?"

"Purring like a kitten, I just had the oil changed."

"You know, I could have delivered that car to the compound," Tony yelled from underneath the machine. Harley laughs, elbow deep in the engine of the beaten '68 model. "What? It's better than having to sit and wait for someone to drive you around in Nowhere, New York."

"Don't act like you don't want to check if I've been taking good care of it." Harley huffed, finally nailing the place where the battery melted into the frame keeping it stable.

"How dare you call her an it," the mock gasp echoed through the workshop. "The car was given as a gift, I should have known you wouldn't appreciate her beauty."

Pulling his head from the hood, Harley stood up straight, "I was like twelve when you gave _her_ to me, I couldn't even drive until a year ago!"

"No excuses! I'll special order it, overnight delivery."

"Who's doing what now?" Pepper hummed as she stepped through the threshold with Morgan asleep on her hip. She walked like a woman with a mission even with a five year old drooling on her shoulder. "Hello, Harley, quite a long time."

"Nice to see you, Ms. Potts."

Ruffling his hair, she planted a kiss to his cheek, "You're the first one in the internship not to call me Mrs. Stark, ten points to you."

"Pepper Potts really rolls off the tongue, besides, taking your husband's name is antiquated, anyway."

She gave him a wink, but then Morgan shifted with a whine before settling. "She tried to stay up, but she was out before the clock struck nine. She really wanted to see you."

"Well, I'm up for babysitting, anytime."

"You're saying all the right things, like music to my ears," she hummed, before using her stiletto to kick at Tony's foot.

"Pep, is that you?"

Her rolling eyes made him laugh, "Yeah, and it's passed both you and Morgan's bedtime."

"But we're just getting started."

Turning to Harley, Pepper whispered, "I swear it's like I have two five year olds sometimes."

"Hey, I heard that!"

Harley leaned against the car, watching the two bicker with a sense of warmth building in his chest. Every now and then Morgan would crinkle her nose while sleeping, only to nuzzle further into her mom's hair. If the workload for the program ended with this everyday, Harley knew it was worth every snarky remark from some trustfundian.

♤◇♡♧

Time seemed to speed up once he got into the groove of the internship. Sure, people were jerks, but it didn't matter. He was there for experimenting and making robots, and no one bothered him otherwise.

They did all kinds of workshops. Something different each day, and Harley felt as if his mind whirled with different sciences. Biology, chemistry, biomechanics, quantum physics. It was no wonder that the program offered college credit.

The only thing that Harley hated was that he, more often than not, was on coffee duty. Most of the time, it was a nuisance that drained his time in the workshop, or making blueprints for the final project.

But, for the first time since the program started, the Avengers had all gathered at the Compound for some big meeting. He just so happened to be the on-call coffee mule.

It was not as glamorous as it seemed. Over thirty different coffee orders, and a whole slew of people he didn't even know were in the conference room. Harley couldn't believe his eyes, seeing heroes he'd only ever watched on TV. Captain America, Ant-Man, a raccoon, the freaking Winter Soldier. He could barely enjoy the moment with the frantic buzzing of people around him. As he was returning to his corner in case anyone needed refills, he nearly got knocked over.

"Oh, jeez sorry!" someone said.

Harley blanched, swearing he recognized that particular vocal inflection. An eerily overwhelming sense of déjà vu washed over him.

Said voice belonged to Spider-man. Since he'd been working, Harley lost his opportunity to interact with anyone. It was his luck that he ran into Tony's superhero apprentice in all the havoc. The suit's eye sensors widened and closed quickly, as the hero helped steady them both. Harley laughed as the image of a cartoon popped into his head.

"No worries, my bad," Harley assured, but his curiosity got the best of him. "Does your mask respond to your pupil dilation, or map your facial expression?"

Despite not seeing Spider-man's face, Harley could have sworn he saw panic. Something in the back of his mind nagged him, even if pinpointing the reason was beyond him.

"A little bit of both," but the words grated as the voice modulator activated.

Harley swallowed, reaching around the hero to grab a cup on the table. The sense of familiarity only thickened, when he really began to notice Spider-man's size. Much smaller than he would expect from a near full time hero.

"Cool, here's your coffee, man."

"Thanks, but between you and me, I'd kill for a frappuccino."

Harley grinned, "Can't say I've had one."

The eyes on the sensors widened again, comically so, "What? No way, dude, you definitely have to try one."

With a final nod, Harley stepped around the hero to head back to his post, "I'll keep that in mind."

♤◇♡♧

Harley found he didn't really care for the program after a couple of weeks. The novelty wore off once he realized he was allowed to spend his free time in a different lab anyway. Regardless, he did every assignment, and had been done with his final project for days.

Waiting outside of Tony's personal suite was a great way to see the other half of the buildings. The science departments were in a cluster away from the training grounds but somewhere in the middle were the communication hubs and living areas.

The door opened to reveal Pepper, radiant as usual, with a bouncing Morgan. Harley couldn't help his smile. She looked ready for a playdate, not an afternoon of experimenting. But her backpack was filled with shiny tools and a Black Widow lunchbox, and her eyes filled with excitement.

Giving Pepper a nod in greeting, he kneeled down to meet Morgan eye-to-eye, "You ready for a day in the lab?"

"Super ready."

"Lots of cool gadgets and gizmos?"

She jumped in place, her fists raised to the heavens, "I'm going to make a puppy!"

Harley frowned, throwing his best look of bewilderment at Pepper. By the strong look of resignation, it seemed like she was prepared for her daughter to return home with a cybernetic dog. Lost for words, he scooped Morgan into his arms, her bag rattling like loose change.

Pepper gave him a patented _Mom Look,_ that was equal parts terrifying and loving. By the way Morgan stilled, even she knew it meant business.

"You'll behave for Harley and Peter, right?" The little girl nodded. "If anything happens, FRIDAY will contact us, but you have our numbers anyway. She has snacks and everything she needs in her pouch. Thanks again for coming on such short notice. See you later, Pumpkin, love you."

"Love you, too, mommy!"

With that, Pepper gave them a thumbs up, and closed the door. Stricken with the very heavy responsibility of the heiress in his arms, Harley readjusted Morgan on his hip.

"Let's go to the 'shop, okay?"

Her ensuing yodel of excitement had him laughing the whole way back.

♤◇♡♧

Peter was already working by the time Harley entered with Morgan. Completely different from how he had been when Harley left. The moment Tony called asking for them to babysit while he and Pepper went to a World Summit, he and Peter had been pleasantly working on opposite sides of the lab.

For hours, their attempts to talk to each other had been stilted, the camaraderie from their first meeting nowhere to be found. Harley couldn't even puzzle out why, replaying their initial conversation over and over again in his head. Pretty sure he hadn't made too much of an ass of himself, considering he'd been napping most of the time.

But the second the call had come in, like some Babysitters Assemble chant, they both looked at each other and started to organize. Removing any immediately dangerous objects. In a mad dash, every flame throwing or superheated substance was put away or discarded. Their respective workspaces had never looked so spotless.

The cleaning frenzy had broken the ice in some way, as Peter huffed, "I don't think I've ever welded while babysitting before."

Harley snorted, "It's no problem, I used to make potato guns while feeding my sister mashed peas."

"What? No way!"

"Karma came back to bite me though. I don't know if you've heard, but half the universe was gone for five years. Suddenly, my baby sister was only a year younger than me," he joked.

"Shoot, I didn't even think about the Snap like that, that sucks."

"It's kind of really funny, though," Harley wheezed.

Peter tried to contain his belly laugh, but shaking shoulders and all, he was failing miserably. _It was a good look on him_ , Harley mused before realizing where those thoughts were headed.

Glancing at his wrist to a nonexistent watch, "I think it's time to pick up Morgan now."

He had to admit, it hadn't been his smoothest moment. But here he was, not really ready to face the spark of something in his chest when it came to the other boy. Harley could deny it before, when he barely saw Peter. Now, faced with the way Peter was smiling at Morgan, who stood in awe, mouth open in a perfect, "oh," some things were hard to ignore.

"Peter!" She yelled, springing into action, "Are you going to help me make a Schnauzer?"

"What?"

Which was how they were both roped into making a robot puppy for the next four hours. For a kid in the single digits, Morgan knew exactly what she wanted, and had reasoning behind why the Stark Industries, patent-pending, Pupp-e™, had to very specifically be a Schnauzer.

According to her, "The doggy mustache was very important."

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, her knowledge of programming was way beyond her age. Even if she couldn't understand all of the words that Harley typed into the code, her pattern recognition was pinpoint accurate, and incredibly efficient. She was like a perfect blend of Tony and Pepper, and given the shared look between him and Peter, the thought was terrifying.

Unlike her father, her stamina lasted for only a handful of hours before she fell asleep with a prototype of the Pupp-e™ shell in her arms. They both fell back onto the couch, groaning, as Morgan snored between them.

"I'm pretty sure I've never met a younger taskmaster," Peter yawned.

Arching his back until the shift in his muscles and discs returned to normal, Harley agreed. His fingers still itched for something to do, unsatisfied with only coding and design. Despite never wanting to leave the warm, cozy comfort of the sofa, Harley stood up with a stretch.

"Do you want to help me with something?"

Peter puckered his lips, contemplating, "Sure, what is it?"

Tilting his head toward where the lab shifted into a garage, Harley meandered his way to the Mustang that was slowly looking like something driveable.

"Tony and I have been having trouble with the engine flooding," Harley grunted. "I couldn't figure out why since we changed most of everything, but I need to test out a theory."

"That's awesome, dude. I'm more of a tech guy than a grease monkey, but I didn't know you and Mr. Stark were working on this together."

"Yeah, cars are good for stress relief."

"Great, so what do you need me to do?" Peter asked, excitement in his eyes.

Harley bit his lip, "Uhm, I just need you to turn the key and press the gas pedal. And, please, for the love of Newton, make sure its parked with the emergency brake down."

"I know how a car works."

"I doubt that, city boy."

Gasping, Peter paused on his way into the driver's seat, "Oh, you're gonna regret that."

"Or, what? Will you chase me on the subway?"

Harley did not expect the rag to be thrown at his face with such accuracy, but the taste of dirty cloth made him gag. Pulling it off his face, he was about to throw it back but Peter was already in the car, grinning like a madman. With a shake of his head, Harley popped the hood of the car.

From inside the cabin, Peter rolled down the window, poking his head out, "So, what do you think the problem is?"

"The fuel shouldn't have any air, so there could be a place that's corrupting the fuel line. Or something involving the ignition, but that doesn't seem right."

"Okay, you lost me," Peter admitted.

"Alright then, you city slicker, turn the key." Harley laughed. The car sputtered and gurgled, but didn't turn. "Okay you can stop."

Digging in deeper, Harley checked every valve and cap. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the gush of air when the ignition flared was alarming.

"Dude, can you actually listen to the car and know the problem? That's so cool–"

Maybe it was pure chance, perhaps the pieces just so happened to line up in Harley's brain. He had no way of really knowing. But, being under the hood had given Peter's voice an echo that sounded all too much like Spider-man's voice modulator. No amount of technology could change a person's speech pattern.

Harley counted his blessings that he was under the car, when he realized that the boy he'd been trying to impress for the last few hours was a part time superhero.

He was so screwed.

♤◇♡♧

To say that Harley was panicking was an understatement. Especially now that he saw all the signs.

Where Peter lived. Peter's reflexes. His strength–which made Harley's brain skip like a broken record, because okay, that was attractive. The fact that he was always working on the Spider-man suits.

It really, really had not helped that they were working in the same lab more often. Or, that Harley could lose himself completely in some science talk they were having. Or, that he liked being around Peter because he didn't have to pretend to be unfazed and have a comeback at the ready.

So, at a loss for what to do, he did what he did best: he created.

♤◇♡♧

"Whatcha doin' there kid?" Tony asked, as he entered the lab.

"Trying to get the Spiderdweeb's web launchers to go farther without using as much of the web fluid."

"I distinctly remember you saying that you thought he was tacky."

Harley made a choked sound through his nose, looking over to the other side of the lab to where Peter sat, head banging to whatever music he was listening to. As a result, the circuit he'd been working shocked him. Yelping and jumping off his stool, Harley looked over to Tony, embarrassed.

"Ah, you figured it out. I have to admit, Peter doesn't exactly know how to keep a secret identity." Tony slid a pair of pliers over the bench. "Doesn't really matter, he's got the charm."

Rolling his eyes, Harley recut a handful of wires, "I'm guessing both of those are things he got from you."

"Oh, so you think he's charming."

"Shut up," Harley mumbled, glad his face was facing the board he was building as his cheeks flushed.

When he finally looked up, the smug billionaire only gave Harley a wink with his good eye, before throwing a peace sign with his prosthetic as he left. Harley groaned, for some reason feeling like his mom found an inappropriately used sock.

♤◇♡♧

Wandering towards one of the many patios throughout the compound, the peace and quiet was graciously welcome to his thought addled brain. Even with summer coming to a close, along with the internship moving back to the Big Apple, Harley didn't mind the grind. He was on his last moments to spend with Tony in the lab, but he was too distracted by Parker to notice until they hit curfew. A summer full of science, fun, and experience had been the goal.

Instead, dare he say it, he was having _boy problems._ Harley scrunched his nose, and gagged. Just thinking it was too embarrassing.

Not one for showing any emotion other snark, he was trapped in a rock and a hard place trying to figure out what he should do. Unlike math, there were missing variables that he couldn't solve for. No amount of grace in his limbs, Harley plopped to the ground, legs pretzel-ed. There was no scientific method for relationships, only cross your fingers and hope for the best.

 _Great_.

Suddenly, the echo of footsteps rang from inside the doorway. Harley looked back, waiting to see who it was, only for a very small head to pop out from behind the wall. Giggling, Morgan ran towards him with a familiar red helmet in her arms. Harley could not help but snort seeing the Iron Man mask.

"Harley, look!"

"Nice," he held up his hand for a high five, her palm felt tiny compared to his own.

She sat down beside him, readjusting the helmet into her lap, "What are you doing here?"

"Just thinking." Morgan pouted at his explanation, and Harley only saw Tony in her grumpy face. "I'm having trouble doing something."

"Like what?"

"Telling a friend something, I guess."

"Is it bad?"

Harley contemplated, biting at his lip until it stung, "I don't think so."

Setting her stolen goods aside, Morgan climbed into his lap. "Does it make you sad?"

"A little bit. I just want to say I like them, but I don't know how."

"Papa makes things to say I love you."

"Does that really work?"

"That's what mama says," with a small _humph_ , she slid down to the ground, "and she loves what he makes because he worked hard on it."

"But I'm already making him something."

Stomping her foot, Morgan let out a growl–more like a meow if he was being honest. Her face smooshed into hard concentration mode, like her little brain was super computing.

"That just means you got to say it out loud! Not everyone knows a present means I love you."

"It's not that easy, Morgan."

"Why not?"

"Because he might not like me too."

The huff of air she let out through her nose made her nostrils flare. She snatched the helmet from the grass to squeeze her head inside. Watching the lights of the eyes glow startled him.

"That's silly. If you never try, then both of you will be sad for forever."

For a five year old, her logic was impeccable. She left him gaping, undoubtedly returning to running around the compound before anyone could find her and tell her to return the stolen piece of Iron Man gear.

♤◇♡♧

Harley took a detour on his way back to the lab, taking the path less travelled. Plenty of time to think, but further from any answers to his dilemma. He went to the campus library, hoping that somewhere between the stacks, a solution would be hiding, or just a smidge of courage. Instead, he printed out the web shooters simulation results.

Sighing, Harley figured he had work to do, and no more time left for procrastinating. Worry unsettling his thoughts while he worked his way back to the personal workshop. If his tech upgrade wasn't ready by the end of the week, he'd lose his chance to finish them.

"Mr. Stark, I don't think he likes me very much."

Harley stopped right outside the lab door, clenching the simulation results in a fist. Instead of entering, he leaned on the wall just outside.

"Harley's just like that, kid, no use worrying."

The paper crumpled in his hand, rustling slightly. He tensed, hoping Peter's enhanced hearing wouldn't pick up the disturbance, too distracted in conversation.

"It's just he's all sarcasm! And raised eyebrows! How am I supposed to tell if he thinks I'm funny or just dumb?"

"Can't it be a bit of both?" Tony joked. Harley heard the squeak of stool. "Harley has his own ways of expression, it's confusing but you'll get the hang of it."

"Is it wrong that I want him to like me?"

A long pause had guilt building in his chest. Harley could imagine Tony giving Peter the soft look. The one so full of understanding, Harley felt like he didn't deserve it. He couldn't see a thing, but he felt like an intruder, listening to everything. Whatever was going on wasn't really his business.

Stepping away from the door, and back up the stairs, Harley knew that Morgan was right.

♤◇♡♧

Huffing, Harley flopped back against the workbench, hoping to take the pressure off his feet. When the program relocated to New York City, Harley had the ever impending sense of doom that everything was coming to an end. The only good thing was that Peter was around a lot more.

His job as an intern wasn't finished. He was still the coffee cohort, and somehow the job got worse in the city. Waiting in a busy Starbucks just off the Canal Street Station to get an order of more than ten drinks was by its very definition, exhausting. He thought that busy New York City coffee shops were just a thing in the movies.

A lot of things about NYC seemed jarringly like films. Like, walking ten blocks with enough caffeine to give a horse a heart attack in the middle of the Financial District was an Olympic sport. Or, that the New York Minute was very real, and everyone was in a rush _all the time_.

Sipping at his drink, his eyes fluttered closed at the sweet coffee goodness rolling over his tongue. He couldn't imagine the turned his life had taken. Or that Captain America was insisting to be called Steve. Which was awesome, but also weird, handing a national treasure, a Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate, with two extra pumps of caramel while on a first name basis.

It still wasn't totally computing in his brain that he was doing coffee runs for a team of superheroes.

Peter paused in his video call with a friend to yell across the workshop, "Is that a frappuccino?"

Suddenly sour to his taste buds, Harley swallowed his drink, "So what if it is?"

Laughter echoed as Peter pushed up his goggles, "Shuri, did you hear that?"

The person on the phone said something that Harley couldn't quite pick up with his normal, all too human ears. Peter chuckled, shaking his head before saying goodbye and letting U take it away.

"I always thought you were more of a, ' _Coffee, black like my soul_ ,' type."

"My soul is full of kittens and puppies, thank you very much."

"Yeah, sure," Peter said, an incredulous eyebrow raised to his hairline.

"What's wrong with a Frappuccino anyway?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're a country boy. But in NYC, they're kind of a meme."

Harley groaned, "Great."

With Peter returning to work on a piece of the Spider-man suit, the barest hint of a chuckle under his breath, Harley took another gulp of the frozen drink.

Before he was even aware of the thought, the words tumbled from his lips like an anvil, "I know Spider-man likes a good frapp, so I figured I'd give 'em a try."

"Oh," Peter stuttered, "You like Spider-man?"

Harley's mouth felt drier than a desert, "He's neat, seemed like an okay guy. Reminds me of someone."

"Really?"

"Einstein help me," Harley murmured, knowing Peter would hear anything regardless of how much he whispered.

Unable to contain himself, Harley figured powering through might be the only option for him at this point. Walking to his desk, he opened the drawer to pull out the tech. He gulped, trying to get his mouth to work again, but unsuccessful on all fronts.

"Here take it," Harley threw the finished web shooters at Peter's face. "It'd suck if you ended up sidewalk art because your webs didn't reach something."

The other boy puzzled at what he'd just caught until his eyes widened, Harley could see the moment when Peter put everything together.

Redder than his suit, Peter spluttered, mouth open like a fish out of water. Harley would have thought it was the most hilarious thing if his face wasn't as deep a crimson. His feet seemed to be the most interesting things in the room.

"If you don't like them, well that sucks but, uhm–" unable to control the word vomit, Harley kept talking through the pause, "–I just figured they could be improved. Oh crap, didn't mean that. I wanted to do something nice, cause you're kind of cool. Well, I think you are. This is going great, shi–"

"Thanks, Harley."

"No problem, Parker."

He chanced a glance towards Peter, not sure if his blood pressure could handle the sheer embarrassment coursing through his veins.

"So you know."

Harley swallowed, trying and so desperately failing to calm his racing heart, "Yeah, it's no big deal."

"It's no big deal," Peter repeated, "that I'm Spider-man. Instead, you made me new webshooters because you're really supportive?"

Smacking his lips and grasping at straws for words, Harley rocked back on his heels. His nerve was slipping like sand in a storm, and sounds refused to bounce off his tongue.

"Yup," he hated the way his voice cracked.

"Really?"

"No, I made them, because," Harley paused, wishing for the life of him that he could start over. "I didn't want you to think that I was hanging out with you because you were Spider-man. But it's dangerous, and a part of you, and that's okay, too. I want you to stay safe, because I want you to come back. Something like that anyway."

Walking around the work bench, Peter fell right into Harley's line of sight. Biting his lip and feeling like a mess of swirling emotion, Harley squinted at the boy, lost for anything to say.

"You really have a way with words."

The world would be doing Harley a favor if it just swallowed him whole. In fact, he would smother himself right there if he didn't see the way Peter looked just as uncomfortable.

"Actually, I was thinking." Peter cleared his throat. "Starbucks are everywhere. Maybe before you catch a flight back to Tennessee, we could go to one in Queens."

Harley couldn't help the lopsided smile he was sure was on his face, "Yeah. Sure, totally."

"Cool."

"Fantastic."

"Amazing."

They both burst out laughing. For the first time since the program started, he actually wanted it to end. Sure, he would have to reschedule his flight, but that didn't matter. Giving each other lingering glances, they returned to their stations.

As he settled down to finish his blueprint for a new project, Harley hummed to himself. _All of this, all thanks to a drink_. Frowning, he whipped around in his seat, finally realizing the irony of Peter's teasing.

"I can't believe you were giving me crap about drinking a frappuccino, you hypocrite!"

Peter nearly fell off his stool, he was crying from laughing so hard.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, please look at [mfrov95's](https://mfrov95.tumblr.com/) wonderfull art!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr, [@capitaaan](https://capitaaan.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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